Chores
by Sioned136
Summary: So what is exatly in Kitty head after all? Well pick up that shirt and throw away your old burger wrappers, 'cause this might take a while.
1. Default Chapter

I picked at the meat, that was set before me, swirling it on my fork, and smearing the sauce as my meat passed over the porcelain. Even this lifeless attempt at art was by far much more interesting then whatever Jean was talking about.  
  
"A good student should always be" blah blah blah. I swear if she didn't have her daily public adoration she would wither up and turn to dust. Not too bad of a picture, as I felt my lips curling up in the vague form of a smile. I decided that whatever the meat was that Logan cooked for us was, deserved to be in my stomach and not on the floor, so I left.  
  
I almost made it out of the room too, but Scott, ever the helper, blocked my escape root. " Oh Rogue, remember that you have nightly chore duties." Why can he ever just say what is necessary. No he has to make it sound all professional and leader like. Just say I have to wash dishes, that's it. Very simple really, Rogue, you have to wash dishes. Six little words.  
  
But of course not, we are talking about Jean's male ultra ego here.  
  
I of course kept this to myself and muttered something along the lines of whatever. I have been spending too much time in Kitty's presence.  
  
It isn't as if I hate doing the dishes, or exactly love them either. Moving my hands in water free of burdens of cloth or gloves was something I always looked forward too. It was a time where I can completely be a normal teenager. This was the time I can remember what it was like being normal back in Mississippi with Irene (?) before I was the untouchable, before I was a mutant, before I had to cover up for the plain and simple fact that I can kill with a touch.  
  
I know I can.  
  
Kill with a touch…  
  
Its not that shocking, I literally suck the other person of there very being, drawing into myself the very essence of what a person needs, a person requires to live, to breathe to be themselves.  
  
I know how far I need to go; I see the line before me every time I am touched. It's sort of a big bright event horizon that looms always closer with every second that passes. It brings with it a perverted thrill that I cannot explain, a thrill that I can cheat at the very rules that make this god forsaken place, a thrill that always is stopped when I break the contact.  
  
Once the thrill leaves, I'm bombarded with everything. Not the simple "life passing before my eyes", nothing is ever as orderly and neat. It's all a complete jumble, forcing that millisecond of joy into one of complete and utter agony. Thought smells, past actions, past regrets. Memories of tears and fears, of ended love, happy childhood memories, and the pain of the first rejection, mothers and annoying 4th grade teachers, nostalgic sights and fanciful dreams, stuff that liters the un-conscience is dumped onto my unwilling brain, and the sub-conscience keeps its endless stuffing of no nonsense crap that pertains to the art of what happened in a bathroom yesterday. My self is forced to the tiniest portion of my mind and the foreign perpetrator reigns supreme.  
  
And that is when the real terror begins.  
  
The battle of keeping my own life above the tragic/happy existence of the intruder. My own thoughts and my own actions balanced unequally in the matter of the most important. While the basic natures of the foreign one is breaking loose of my fragile constraints only to plaster my very soul with the uneraseble smudge.  
  
  
  
But back to washing of dishes  
  
The tedious chore of washing the cups, and the plates, and the forks, and the spoons, and all other materials needed in the dinner routine. I try to keep them in nice orderly piles and just grab at random the materials I plan on scrubbing.  
  
The part that I don't love about the dishes, is the mess people leave. Something that tends to give little hints to the owners. For example, Kurt's plate is licked dry, no smear of sauce left or anything. But its still gross, or the tell tale sign of Jubilee. She has to put ketchup on anything, a sort of guilty pleasure, and there by leaves large quantities left over on her plate.  
  
I look over my shoulder at the gathering of my teammates, score yet another point for the bad part of washing dishes.  
  
Its not like I want to join as they laugh and tease amongst each other, talking about some danger room session or a Kurt joke that every one has heard before, but yet still laughs at, its just…  
  
I know its silly, but I can see myself as Cinderella, doing the dirty work as the evil stepsisters/brothers are out painting the town red. Getting close to one another, and just acting like a normal teenager, goofing off, sharing their brilliant incites on why the world works, normally ending with the profound statement by Bobby in the form of a giant belch.  
  
Ironic isn't it, I cannot have a life do to the fact of my abilities, and yet my abilities is what gives me the chance of seeing what I'm missing out in, or just teases me off what I cannot have. Maybe not ironic, but definitely cruel.  
  
"Hey Rogue, now that your done with the dishes you want to go outside and shoot some hoops with us?"  
  
"Nah, Ah need to go study for my exams" 


	2. Bobby's thoughts

Okay I have decided to do another chore story. Any body who wants to see what their fav character does during the simple chore, or how they do it, ask and you shall receive, after a given time. Thanks to icy flame and to x-woman for reviewing. Neva this is for you do to your inside story. Enjoy  
  
  
  
Bored at 7: 23  
  
  
  
…  
  
  
  
Still bored at 7:23  
  
  
  
…  
  
  
  
Wait something is happening, the excitement is being pumped into my veins, unleashing the utter joy of actually anticipation, the feeling you get at a horror movie  
  
  
  
Yes!!!!  
  
  
  
Yes!!!  
  
  
  
It's now 7:24!!!!!!!!  
  
  
  
  
  
…  
  
  
  
And people yell at me for bringing joy to their dull little lives. Look what I save them from! I who bring them the happiness and suspense that doesn't normally happen, the joy of actually knowing that they are alive and not some brainless zombie intent on destroying the world from the evil Glutton of gloom! Mwhahahaha.  
  
  
  
Hmmm, I really need to work on my bad guy's names.  
  
  
  
Climbing down from the chair that I was standing on, I looked back over at the other "newbies" as we have so been named.  
  
"What?"  
  
That's right Drake, sell the cute innocent look, maybe they won't remember that embarrassing demonstration of boredom. Luckily it seems that they didn't really notice it, Jubilee to busy with her gum and a magazine, Jean was over a text book helping out her latest student project –Amara-, and Ray was bench pressing his new irons. Hey look at me, Mr. Crisp I am so strong, see even my hair defies gravity!  
  
Okay, I'm done  
  
  
  
Now what to do?  
  
  
  
-smack-  
  
  
  
chew chew chew  
  
  
  
chew  
  
  
  
chew  
  
  
  
chew  
  
  
  
whoosh  
  
  
  
-POP-  
  
  
  
chew chew chew  
  
"JUBILEEEEEEE!!! That is the most annoying thing I have ever heard! Is it possible to chew quietly or for that matter to chew the same piece of gum for hours nonstop, with a smack and a chew and another smack. Why can' you chew it somewhere else, say a insane asylum, bet they have a wing already there for annoying chewers!!!!"  
  
  
  
"Bobby!" Jean yelled.  
  
  
  
I really don't mean to go off on people, but sometimes there are those rare occasions when not even I can keep my cool. Impossible you say, I know. But it is true.  
  
  
  
"I'm sorry, it's just that I'm really bored, and she is really annoying with all that incessant nonstop LOUD chewing, it just making me a lil nuts." I held up my hand and pinched my too fingers together in the universal sign for small. I don't think that it helped my case though, because she was still looking at me in that I'm-too-good-to-tear-your-head- off-but-your-still-in-major-trouble-look that she has perfected over the years.  
  
"Robert" she started, I hate it when the use my full name, that is a privilege only adults get, and only if I like them, she certainly didn't fall into either requirement.  
  
"Robert, if she bugs you so much, and you are soo bored, I suggest you go out and do something useful"  
  
I was trapped, I was on the hook ready to be brought to my doom, I was being nailed to the cross, I was…  
  
"maybe you should go and" she paused letting the final act of punishment fall on me like a ton of bricks.  
  
Why do seniority holders think they can do this? In their nice way of putting it, "I suggest" really its "do this mister or face a full day of training with Mr. Logan" threat. And while I'm on the topic of complaining about older teenagers, what gives them the right to stop my images of doom? I was on a ROLE explaining my near doom, and she ruined it, interrupting me as she did. Doesn't she realize how hard it is to get on a role these days, I mean not only is it hard thinking up these terrible gruesome images, but still continue with what you were doing, bringing forth the next … Wait what was I talking about again?  
  
  
  
"vacuum the main hallway."  
  
  
  
Note to self; remember to freeze her underwear and maybe her costume.  
  
  
  
And to make things worst, Ray AND Jubilee were smiling openly, openly!!! At my new demonic punishment.  
  
And so I grumbled and groaned and went to get my vacuum. Not exactly a hero's true weapon of choice.  
  
What am I kidding?  
  
If I have been given a choice in the matter of what I got at the superhero's convention, I would probably choose the sucking capabilities of a Hoover then freezing stuff.  
  
I mean how stupid are these powers? In any comic book or any story about the rogue mage/sorcerer can shoot brilliant flames out of his hands, display this wicked green flame to light his way, or at least be able to cook things. Me, I get to make things cold.  
  
Ooohhh, special  
  
  
  
This is only helpful if I find myself in a desert, and seeing how well I tan, it ain't gonna happen in this lifetime baby.  
  
There is no cool thing about these, (wait, no joke intended there. Let me try again), there is nothing wonderful about these so-called powers. Look where they go me…  
  
My girlfriend at the time was in trouble, and so naturally I lead the charge to get her back from the clutches of the evil doers. But no matter how hard I struck with my fists, or how mighty my kicks were, my fight was useless, mostly because they never landed, and I was up against a bully 5 feet taller then me, but that's not the point.  
  
The point is, I had a secret weapon up my sleeve, I could save the fair princess with this oh so wonderful power. And I did, I clobbered the guy! Making him into a lovely ice sculpture, complete with expression of surprise.  
  
I was ready for the kiss that my sweet would gave me for coming to her aid, but all I got back was the look.  
  
The look of pure hatred and disgust and fear, the one that a person gives to a wild man-eating beast (sorry Hank)  
  
And then she screamed.  
  
And they went after me, yelling and screaming murderer and other obscenities. They came after me with not pitchforks and torches, but guns and a rope. Calling out for my mutie blood, demanding and accusing me for defiling their town.  
  
The people I had grown up, had walked with to the town parade, or was in church school with their sons and daughters, were damning me to hell…  
  
  
  
But that wasn't the worst. No, the threat of my impending doom at their hands wasn't that bad, the thought of my lifeless body swinging by a faint breeze didn't turn my blood cold.  
  
They did.  
  
  
  
My own flesh and blood, my own protectors, and love givers, and boo boo kissers, my own parents turned me away. Pushed me back into the waiting gullet of the lynch mob. And the worst part, they didn't even shed a tear.  
  
No there faces were filled with hatred and disgust, much more then any girl or member of the mob did for me.  
  
So I ran…  
  
  
  
…  
  
  
  
Yeah being the Iceman is a load of fun  
  
  
  
Feelings of hatred to myself began to creep at the edges of my brain, and the fact that I still had to bring out the Hoover and still do the dastardly deed wasn't helping.  
  
But I live, either that or my mind is quick to move on to the next project. I was never one for moping around in my self-pity.  
  
Besides, after I was held up in a shed escaping the mob, I mused while getting out the sucking beast and unwinding the cord, the prof got me.  
  
And thankfully erased all the good towns people minds of my mutation. And so the hero of our lil story can keep walking out in the sunset and open up the lovely white picket fence gate, and run to the arms of his loved ones.  
  
Ready? Group sigh, awwwwwww  
  
OF course that will be the day.  
  
Maybe when I finally come to grips with how to clean a darn hallway, where many, many teenagers walk through all day, the wheel markings of the prof chair, the always present mud on some big tough wild man's shoes no names needed. Cough-Logan-Cough. Hmm I seem to have the beginnings of a cold.  
  
Or of course my favorite dirty mark, the incessant blue fur.  
  
Note to self; get Hank a comb on the next Twinkie run.  
  
Note to self; better make that a super big brush with shovel, geese I can barely vacuum with this hair on the ground.  
  
I would be down now, if it weren't fur all the fur. Hahaha I crack myself up. Ha  
  
  
  
Ha  
  
  
  
'scuse me while I remove the tear from the corner of my eye. Lol  
  
  
  
ahhh, all better now. Two more minutes of the annoying buzzing sound and then I'll be done  
  
  
  
  
  
-vrumm-  
  
  
  
-vrumm-  
  
  
  
  
  
SMACK!!!  
  
  
  
-STOMP-  
  
  
  
-STOMP-  
  
  
  
chew chew chew  
  
  
  
"Call me annoying will yah, well take this!" –sparkle-spakle- wizzz—CRASH!!!!  
  
  
  
I look up from my beautiful near complete floor of prevacumedness, and to my utter horror, my fellow teammate, the wonderful Jubilee, not only is causing the ROOF to come down, but is also tracking-Mud-Into-MY-NICe-CLEAn- ROOM!!!!!  
  
"COME BACK LITTLE GIRL!!! FREEZE ON!!!!"  
  
I love it when my dumb peer's just ask for it, don't you? 


	3. exploration of whats behind the glasses

"I never had a friend like you  
  
Your skin is white,  
  
Your eyes are blue.  
  
But the wind might change.  
  
I will still remain,  
  
I will always be there for you.  
  
These thoughts, they circle in my mind  
  
The demons I can't leave behind…"  
  
Stupid poetry. I crumpled up the agonizing lines and threw it at my waste paper basket; they weren't going to be used anytime soon.  
  
No matter how hard I try, it seems I can never get it. Never get the words to come out the way I need them, the way that I want them to pour out of my mouth. They always seem to get lost in there, or for this time, lost in the inky depths of my pen. Why is it so hard to take what's in my inner soul and express it to the one person whom it was meant for. Why can I not just walk up to her, take her silken hand in mine, and look into her clear azure eyes and tell her what I have wanted to say for so long?  
  
Beautiful lines or nothing, just getting up the courage to talk to her and to tell her how I feel…  
  
"Actions speak louder then words" they say, but no matter how many times I show her, I always seem to watch her say goodbye and leap into Duncan's arms.  
  
Jerk.  
  
My fists are clenched and I could almost hear Storm telling me that I have to watch my temper.  
  
Breathe  
  
In … 1-2-3-4-5-  
  
  
  
Out… 6-7-…  
  
Before I could get to the last numbers, the professor called to me. "Scott, I need to see you in my study, please."  
  
"On my way Professor."  
  
Before I left my room, I looked back over my shoulder at the huge pile of crumpled attempts… I suppose hitting my head would not be appropriate?  
  
* * *  
  
"Scott is has come to my attention" he began as I made myself comfortable in the waiting chair, " that most of the students, are, shall we say lacking."  
  
"Well sir," I presented my case, " I am impressed with how hard they are training. And Logan has not been complaining over his normal standards on the training either. I do not think we can work them any more. Not with exams being next week and all."  
  
He gave me one of his half smiles, and just shook his head. "No Scott, that's not what I meant. What I'm trying to get at is, that… Let me see if I can explain this better. Ahh, yes. You see Scott this is a large mansion, and I try not to spoil the recruits."  
  
I am secretly glad that I have my ruby shades on.  
  
It is true that we do have some better lives then other teens, and other mutants for that matter. But we certainly are not spoiled. Not with all we have to go through. I let him continue with out objecting out loud.  
  
"Scott, the house doesn't clean itself, and I have found some students shrimping off on their chores." He must have seen my quizzical look because he continued. "Scott, as the leader, I think you should do an extra chore, one that isn't exactly loved either. Scott I need to clean the bathrooms."  
  
At first, this assignment was fine by me. This is the job of a good leader, to set the example and forge ahead, to get his hands dirty. For no one will follow a guy that could not do what he expected his people to.  
  
But the bathrooms were not exactly what I had in mind, maybe cleaning up the danger room, or the dusting of the light fixtures in the main hallway. Even vacuuming the numerous amounts of stairs.  
  
Of course, this is what I projected on the inside, on the outside I swallowed my pride. I called something over my shoulder as I left to get my cleaning supplies.  
  
That is the problem with being the leader. Do not get me wrong, I love being the leader. The joy of seeing someone grows into themselves, from one scared shy person who is afraid of moving, to a confident young adult. It is those little moments when braving the insults or hate glares from the extra practices, make it all worth while.  
  
Jean heard the insults one-day, and must have read my thoughts, for she then asked why I put up with it all. Why I have to put up with planning, and arranging, and being bright and optimistic in bad situations, why I push myself to be the "role model". The first thought that came to me was that I am very competitive.  
  
I never get to live this experience out in sports, like Jean. So I have to release this competitive nature some how. And I do get to in some ways.  
  
Because I enjoy the little battles with the brotherhood more then I let on. I enjoy the thrill of the win just as much as the next guy, I enjoy teachers announcing to the class that I, Scott Summers, got the highest grade, and I enjoy the slight bend in destiny and fate.  
  
Having those two supreme deities of our lives letting me get something in my favor is worth a lot to me. Lord knows that I have been chewed up and spit out by them more often enough…  
  
And I believe that's another reason why I like being the leader. The control. Not exactly the control over my fellow teammates, I am not that power mad, but the control over what is or would be happening. I do not think I could stand another person leading me to battle or whatnot. They might do it wrong. I rather take the control of my own life for once.  
  
Being the leader, is something that I can look forward to. Something that I can claim is mine. That would not be taken away from me, that would not be shoved in my face then brutally taken away, something that I am finally allowed to do despite being what I am.  
  
By this time I have gotten my supplies and have reached my destination  
  
The bathrooms  
  
I filled up the sink with warm water, and began to uncap the bottle of pine sal, before I could really get down and dirty with the soap scum and nasty dried toothpaste marks, my secret little cleaning spree was out.  
  
"Man, the Prof. has YOU cleaning the bathrooms?!?" Evan's face peered in to the room while I held a sponge in one hand and the toilet brush in the other.  
  
"Yeah Daniles, I am cleaning the bathroom. Oh but don't worry, I am sure that the Professor could find you something to do as well."  
  
I added to my first comments, "After all, look what happened to Bobby." A good thing about glasses is that if you cock your eyebrow up a bit, it gives the effect of jeering. After living with them for a couple of years, I have learned slight tricks like that.  
  
And of course it added to my slight threat, making Evan's panicked expression that much lovelier.  
  
The pure and utter terror that comes when the word chore is spoken to a teenager is wonderfully funny. I had to chuckle under my breath as the skater mumbled something about a session with Logan and left posthaste.  
  
And so I was left again with my sponge, my thoughts, and the challenge before me.  
  
Once a person gets over the stomach queasiness, and gets there own rhythm to the scrubbing, its becomes easy. One should just set up a plan of attack and follow through. For example, after filling the sink up with the pine sal one should clean all the places that needs it, the mirror, the porcelain counter top (after removing the hair brushes, hair supplies, and other teenager girl necessities) the porcelain toilet edgings, and top it all off with scrubbing the soap scum on the shower. Simple really.  
  
But after a while, I began to get bored, so I started humming a few bars of a new BNL song I heard,  
  
"He's branded like a racing car,  
  
He's like a movie star without moviieeesss.  
  
The week of Independence Day,  
  
The casting agent called to say,  
  
Your smile could save our movie and the world  
  
Buy buy buy buy  
  
Sell sell sell  
  
How well you learn  
  
To not discern  
  
Who's foe and who's friend"  
  
But before I could get to the last lines of the chorus, a slight giggle brought me out of my cleaning spurge. Looking behind, I saw three girls starring back at me. Amara, Kitty,  
  
And Jean  
  
Her delicate hand slightly covered her perfect lips. And her blue eyes twinkled as they watched my solo performance.  
  
This is the time when I really hate being tongue tied around her, the parts that really matter. Instead of being witty and incredibly interesting, I wait for her to make the first move.  
  
"Gee Scott, leading, cleaning and singing. Is there anything you can't do?"  
  
I wanted to sweep her up in my arms and just whisper some good romantic lines, but I could not. I could not just come out and say what was in my heart, and I really could not just think about it either, so I just smiled  
  
"I can't clean the windows, so if you ladies were not busy…"  
  
They just laughed and left.  
  
And that's something I also cannot control.  
  
  
  
  
  
A.N. Well that was Scott's. Also I don't own x-men and probably won't ever. Also the first poem/song is owned by The Cranberries it's called "This is the Day" from their CD called Wake Up and Smell the Coffee. And the last song was from Bare Naked Ladies, its called "Sell Sell Sell", from there CD called Maroon. 


	4. Go Inside My Head

Ahh shopping.  
  
The innocent joy at snatching a shirt away from the waiting hand of another shopper, the simplicity of dodging traffic while racing through the labyrinth, or my all time fav, the breathtaking smell of overused "Ed de toilet" giving way to the fresher unwrapped electronics fragrance.  
  
Just thinking of the afternoon was giving me goose pimples as I managed my way down stairs to the spot. The fact that I held my brand new laptop was making the day even more bright.  
  
Not the actual carrying itself, but the knowledge that I will let my digits flex over their never before touched keys, or soon be able to gaze into the colored monitor as my web pages and letters take form. Those special moments in a girl's life is what made the 1700 dollars easier to spend.  
  
For years I had scrimt and saved for that cash, begging grandparents, doing extra chores around the mansion, not going with the girls shopping once a month, saving birthday money, and now my sacrifice was well awarded. Now I had my very own laptop, an Intel Pentium 4 processor with 2.0 gigahurtz. I squeal with excitement, practically rushing to my spot, but of course while using utmost care not to drop my baby.  
  
I know I know Kitty 1,700 dollars for a laptop, while you already had some laptop, why?  
  
Why? The reason is simple, Scott has his car, Wolverine has his bike, Jean has her guys, and I have my electronic notebook. Not good enough for you? Well fine then, it like this, this piece of hardware is mine.  
  
Its not my parents, not the professor's, not something to do with my religion, nor the x-men. Not something that Kurt can play with when bored, nor something Rogue can touch when forgetting to type a paper due in 2 hours. It wasn't excitement that at any given time could be confiscated for someone else when I'm just ready to finish up with my web-page production. "Kitty, what you want to do is a leisure activity, what Jean needs to use it for is school based." It is all mine.  
  
Something that I have full reign over what is allowed to be stored on the memory, something that I can finally put all my true hardcore feelings in without worrying if somebody got in it and read, something where I can place pictures of Lance or Shane West without getting ridiculed by a grossed out Goth.  
  
Besides I really like the color!  
  
I was almost to my spot, when Kurt ported right in front of me.  
  
"Like gosh Kurt, can you please be a tad more careful when porting, I mean I almost dropped my new laptop."  
  
"Oh sorry Kitty, but the Scott wanted me to tell you of your assignment."  
  
"Assignment?" Puzzled, I carefully placed my baby onto the closest stable structure away from Kurt's dexterous tail.  
  
"Ja, the fearless leader has started a new chores detail." It amazed me that even with this new ounce of work Kurt didn't seem to mind. And that's what I found attractive about him. He didn't whine about things that happened to him, like Lance does. "But the good news is that we get a bigger allowance!"  
  
Grinning with his pointed teeth, I could not help but join in his mirth. Besides with a bigger allowance, I can finally get the clothes that I have been dying to get for a couple years.  
  
But that quick flash of more happiness then even I'm used to quickly faded as soon as Kurt gave me the next bit of information. "You Kitty get to clean the basement area that you love so much!"  
  
The joy that I once felt for getting my baby was not utterly gone.  
  
The basement?  
  
But it was huge! Covered from corner to corner with teenager stuff, not to mention the whole secret stuff down here, storage facilities for Logan's extra training sessions, dirty clothes, old pizza cartons complete with moldy cheese, old cerebro equipment that looks like it came out of the space program, literally just junk.  
  
"Ahh don't worry Katchan, it's only the small area that we goof off in, not any of the secret subleveles nor Logan's equipment."  
  
Groaning, I flopped down on the couch, that "ity bity" area was still going to cut into my web page time, and then I have to go right over for an extensive danger room session with Mr. Logan.  
  
Kurt just looked over at me, in his big yellow eyes, and in his adorable and almost cute way of his. I knew what was coming, the little fuzz ball.  
  
"Kitty, well, if you need me to help." Yep, sure enough the blue is replaced by gold in the inside, a heart of gold to be precise.  
  
"Gee, thanks Kurt," I gave him one of my best smiles, don't get me wrong I would love to have his help, and I love it even more that he notices that I would normally love his help. Its just that, well I'm a big girl now, that was well that was the whole point of getting my own laptop. To prove to the world that I, Katherine Pride am a grown up.  
  
Besides, Rogue has been getting on my case about not pulling my own weight around here.  
  
"But I think I can handle it. Its not like I've never cleaned a room before" my joke seemed to work, for he as laughing with me.  
  
"Ja Kitty, you're cleaning styles are that of a pig. Okay, well then I'll see you at the session then. Avietsain."  
  
Waving good bye after he ported, I looked around at me towards the daunting task set in front of me. Ever since I saw Scott cleaning the toilets the afternoon I had a bad feeling, something that just settled into the pit of my stomach and stayed their the entire trip to the stores. But it all stopped when I caught the first whiff of electronics.  
  
Looking longingly at the perky keys and the beautiful flat screen, I began to pick up the pizza boxes lying beside it.  
  
Icky old cheese still stuck to the roof of the bow along with the crumbly icing from the cinnamon bread that we always get. Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I quickly threw it into a waiting trashcan. You would think with all the people living here, and most of them being teenagers that we would've been given a cleaning detail earlier.  
  
But then again, I suppose not.  
  
This ity bity little area is ours. The upstairs is too full of the Professor's old junk and way too expensive for the kids of the household to mess around with. Old pottery from distant lands, distinct awards for being a brilliant mind covered the walls and expensive leather finished off the look of rich old bachelor.  
  
Let's face it, this place isn't exactly ready for the likes of us.  
  
That's why we all take great pains in decorating our areas, our sanctuary's from the others, our little places of us. I myself decorate everything with stuffed animals, poster of hunks and of course electronic magnifies. These things effect that I am inside just as any laptop could. I love cute chunks of yummy guys prolly even more then I could safely admit in front of Rogue. And yes, I have more on the brain then chocolate and cute guys, such as the new digital processors and RAM capabilities of the XP 200. And yes! I still decorate with stuffed animals, I know I know very kindergarten, but they remind me of home and when I wasn't different from my cousins and friends back home. Besides, Rogue hates them!  
  
Grinning evilly to myself I started looking for a dust rag, but opted for one of Jean's old scarves instead.  
  
This place was us. We each added some of our own flavor into the surroundings. It had great lightening with hidden shadows, which I'm not sure, if it was designed by Rogue or Jean for one of her many . interests. Kurt had huge pillows placed everywhere for "easy landing" and well I added the collection of movies and DVD's to the pitiful little stack that Scott brought with him. He knows his music, but when it comes to movies..  
  
This area here was more of a bigger kid's area, for the newbie's have officially taken over the upstairs for some weird pastime activities. Either that or they heard the Logan didn't like heights.  
  
Remembering that little fib Evan had created was making me burst out loud.  
  
If I wasn't the only one down here, people would start wondering about me.  
  
And that's the best part of being where I am now, age wise. I can still pretend to be a little girl with stuffed animals covering my light blue sheets and having conversations with myself and still try to convince everybody, including myself, that I really am a sophisticated adult. But you know what, it doesn't matter if I succeed or fail miserably, for all my group mates will care for me, and offer to help me cleaning an ity bity room or even take me shopping once in a while. 


End file.
